The boy on the wooden box free pdf download






















The OverDrive Read format of this ebook has professional narration that plays while you read in your browser. Learn more here. You've reached the maximum number of titles you can currently recommend for purchase. Your session has expired. Please sign in again so you can continue to borrow titles and access your Loans, Wish list, and Holds pages.

If you're still having trouble, follow these steps to sign in. Add a library card to your account to borrow titles, place holds, and add titles to your wish list. Have a card? Add it now to start borrowing from the collection. Soon the couple married; my mother was sixteen and my father, Moshe, was eighteen.

For my mother, married life was in many ways similar to how her life had been with her parents. Her days were spent doing housework, cooking, and caring for her family, but instead of her parents and siblings, she now looked after her husband and soon their children. They would sit around the hearth, knitting or making pillows from goose feathers. I watched as the women gathered the feathers and stuffed them into the pillowcases just so, gently shaking them so they spread evenly.

Inevitably, some of the down would escape. My job was to retrieve the little feathers that wafted through the air like snowflakes. I reached for them, but they would float away. Plucking geese was hard work, so every single feather was precious.

I looked forward to listening to my mother swap stories and sometimes a bit of local village gossip with her friends. I saw a different, more peaceful and relaxed side of her then. Busy as my mother was, she always had time to show her love. She sang with us children, and, of course, she made sure we did our homework. Once I was sitting by myself at the table, studying arithmetic, when I heard a rustling behind me.

Then she handed me a plate of scrambled eggs, made just for me. I had made my mother proud. My father had always been determined to provide a good life for us. Shortly after marrying, he began working as an apprentice machinist in a small factory that produced handblown glass bottles of all sizes.

There my father learned how to make the molds for the bottles. Thanks to his hard work, his innate ability, and his sheer determination, he was frequently promoted.

One time the factory owner selected my father to attend an advanced course in tool design in the nearby city of Bialystok. I knew it was an important opportunity because he bought a new jacket especially for the occasion. This caused a great deal of excitement in our village. In those days it was rare for young people, really for anyone, to leave the town of their birth.

My father was one of the few employees to move with the factory. The plan was for my father to go first. It took him several years to save that much and to find a suitable place for us to live. In the meantime, my father returned every six months or so to see us. I was too young to recall exactly when my father left Narewka that first time, but I do remember when he came back to spend a few days. When he arrived, the entire village knew. My father was a tall, handsome man who always took great pride in his appearance.

Whenever he came for a visit, he wore a beautiful suit, dress shirt, and necktie. That caused quite a sensation among the villagers, who were accustomed to loose-fitting, simple peasant clothing. Little did I know, those very suits would help to save our lives during the terrible years ahead.

Everything was different when he was home. Most days, given all that Mother had to do to look after my four siblings and me, meals were pretty informal. This changed when my father was there. We sat around the table with the serving dishes spread out before us.

There were always a few more eggs at breakfast and a little more meat at dinner. We listened to his stories of life in the city, enthralled by his tales of the modern conveniences like indoor plumbing and streetcars, things we could scarcely imagine.

We four brothers, Hershel, Tsalig, David, and I, were on our best behavior. When we teased her too much, Father intervened and reprimanded us.

Pesza had long blond hair that my mother plaited into thick braids. She helped my mother around the house and was quiet and obedient. I can understand why my father favored her. Often, Father brought us presents from the big city.

I used to stare at them for a long time, trying to imagine what it would be like actually to live in such a glamorous place. As the youngest child, I always got the hand-me-downs: shirts, shoes, pants, and toys. On one visit my father brought us gifts of child-size briefcases. I saw my brothers with theirs and thought that once again I would have to wait until one of them passed his on to me.

This time I was in for a surprise. Packed into one of the briefcases was an even smaller one, just right for me. I was so happy. Though his visits were only for a few days, my father always made a special time for me. He always held my hand in his, playing with my fingers. It was like a secret signal between us of how much he loved me, his youngest child.

My brother Hershel was the oldest; then came my brother Betzalel, known as Tsalig; my sister, Pesza; my brother David; and me. I thought of Hershel as the biblical Samson. He was big, strong, and feisty. My parents used to say he was a handful. As a teenager, he rebelled and refused to go to school. I had mixed feelings about this. However they did not escape unscathed — Leon lost two brothers and his parents lost their entire extended families, unknown to them until after the war was over.

The simplicity of the prose and the gentle way in which the story is told makes the impact all the more powerful. They were a regular Jewish family who loved each other and had their own lives before Germany invaded and set about systematically destroying them. Leon Leyson was clearly a remarkable person, gifted in many languages by the end of the war and when he emigrated to America with his parents, he certainly made the most of his new life.

I tried once when I was about 12, when the movie came out but it was a bit too much for what I was after at the time. What a beautiful and carefully thought out review. Like you, I am left shaking my head in utter dismay and disbelief that this ever happened, if not a little fearful if the future. Thank you for bringing this book to my attention.

ELA Per. Write your answer choice on the line. Leon was taking food from them. The German soldiers were nice to Leon. Please select your operating system and language to download Acrobat Reader. A version of Reader is not available for this configuration. Optional offer:. Install Adobe Genuine Service AGS which periodically verifies whether Adobe apps on this machine are genuine and notifies you if they are not.

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